Lydia didn't want to feel the sting of his parting shot, but she did. It hit her full force, tore through all of her vital organs, and made a neat little exit wound on its way out. Of the two of them, she was accustomed to being the one delivering the verbal killing blow in their fights. Or else by now they were both usually yelling to the point of unintelligible and it wouldn't be long before one of them gave in and silenced them both with something better. At the thought, Lydia felt a brief, regrettable pang that came with the acknowledgement how very impossible that was.
Their relationship may never have been easy, but she had never really appreciated how much easier that aspect of it had been. It didn't matter how much they fought, they could always count on it ending the same way. Back in each other's arms, where they were supposed to be. That was easier. Shockingly, kissing Matt within minutes of being absolutely furious with him? That had never been difficult. This unbearable divide between them that made it impossible for her to cross now? Not so easy.
How many times had they had an argument in this very spot, or somewhere else in this stupid ship that she not so secretly loved? Still loved, even if all those memories were bittersweet at best now. Being in the Falcon felt like home as much as it always did, to her and to Leia. That would likely never change, but so much else had changed around them, and Lydia was at a loss of how to navigate it. Not that she'd ever admit it, any more than she'd admit to how badly a part of her wanted to say to hell with it and pick up where they'd left off in the storage closet. That wasn't an acceptable solution to their arguments anymore.
She wasn't actually aware of what her face was doing, if the look on it briefly matched her insides, but it hardly mattered since two seconds later her features had already twisted into the usual Matt-provoked anger. She didn't want to think about what he meant by his pointed comment in already being where he should be anymore than she really wanted to admit that he'd struck a nerve, so Lydia did what she did best in these situations and deflected. "Oh god forbid you say yes to a worthwhile opportunity that would take you away from your beloved ship!"
Clamping her mouth shut before she kept on yelling, Lydia breathed in sharply through her nose and lowered her voice, loosening her posture enough to raise both hands in front of her in a hasty attempt to throw in the towel. As good as that ever did them. "I didn't come here to fight."
The question of what she had come here for, of course, turned out to be a more complicated topic for her. In the end it didn't really matter that Daniel had asked her specifically to do this, she could have said no, and he would have respected it. So why was she here? Lydia didn't let herself dwell on that for too long, already in fear of losing control of this 'conversation' altogether. Control was the only thing she had left in her arsenal in her verbal rounds with Matt. Without that, she had nothing left except the truth that she was still steadfastly running away from.
Recrossing her arms and doing her damnedest to look at any spot in the room that wasn't the one Matt currently occupied before reluctantly fixing her gaze on him again, Lydia bit her own lip before she finally relented. "I came here because Daniel wants to make you the head of our combat department." A careful pause. "And I agree with him."